


Blood Of A God

by violetvapours



Category: Loki - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Norse Religion & Lore, Original Work, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Last Werewolf / Bloodlines Trilogy - Glen Duncan, Thor (Movies), Underworld (Movies)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Addiction, Aftermath of Torture, Angst, BAMF Sigyn, Blood Drinking, Blood craving, Blood memories, Breeding Kink, Canon Divergence - Thor: The Dark World, Cock Worship, Codependent power couples are my kink, Dark Loki (Marvel), Dark Romance, Dark Sigyn, Daylighter, Dirty Talk, Dom Loki (Marvel), Dom/sub, Dominant To Submissive, Edging, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Forced Orgasm, Forced Submission, Haemopotent Replication, Hand Kink, Hypnotism, Identity Issues, Leather Kink, Light Bondage, Lima Syndrome, Loki Angst, Loki's Scepter (Marvel), Major Delayed Subdrop, Makeup Sex, Mind Control, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Mind Reading, Mind Stone is a helluva drug, Mutual Dubious Consent, Naked Female Clothed Male, Painplay, Porn with plot and feelings, Power Replication, Prison, Rough Sex, SHIELD, Sadomasochism, Scepter made them do it, Scepter!Loki, Sexual Slavery, Smut, So Wrong It's Right, Stockholm Syndrome, Subspace, The Avengers (2012) - Freeform, These two are damned, Trauma Bonding, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Unsafe Insane and Non-consensual, Vampire!Sigyn, Vampires, Vespertine, Voice Kink, Wax Play, Whump, armour kink, cum dump, cum kink, prepz fuk off, primal play, touch-starved loki, unhealthy relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:00:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24716458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violetvapours/pseuds/violetvapours
Summary: When SHIELD interrogator Sigyn is called in to read the blood memories of a captive invulnerable to usual methods of questioning, all it takes for the mercenary vampire to defect is the first taste of one trickster god's blood.Loki wastes no time in subjugating the addicted revenant to his own agonised appetites, but when the battle for New York is lost and the Scepter's dark veil falls from both their eyes, how will they bear their lingering mutual fascination from opposite sides of a prison cell wall?
Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Original Female Character(s), Loki/Sigyn (Marvel)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 43





	1. ‘voice of a smaller god’

**Author's Note:**

> ❤️[Moodboard](https://violetvapours.tumblr.com/post/620911184114286592) 🌹[Tumblr](http://violetvapours.tumblr.com/)
> 
> I've made like Loki with the Tesseract and traveled back in time to beta my younger self's first shitty Marvel fic. I still get faves on it from FFnet to this day, to my amazement - but I really feel the execution didn't live up to the premise, considering what is now known about the Infinity Stones & Loki's control by Thanos etc. So here's a kinky, twisted ao3 revamp with the rating cranked up to 11 for a more mature audience (me). I’m still unsure if it was worth rewriting so please let me know if you vibe with it too!
> 
> [Inspirations: Selene _(Underworld)_ \+ Rogue _(X-Men)_ \+ Harley Quinn = reimagining of Sigyn with powers based around a vessel (bowl) myth metaphor; Remshi's [meditations](https://www.penguinrandomhouse.ca/books/207426/by-blood-we-live-by-glen-duncan/9780307742193/excerpt) on The Lash _(By Blood We Live);_ _Daybreakers_ (2009); the vampire lore of _Vespertine_ , an original paranormal romance subversion I was writing on a dare, posed by a joke at a party workshopping the proposition ‘Could Twilight be Not Shit if someone else wrote it, or is it inherently bad?’ and we brainstormed so many fix-its I started writing them down. I’ve yet to complete or make a fortune publishing that novel though so I guess Me:0 SMeyer:1 and she beats a sharehouse of cask wine-drunk, atheist, overeducated underemployed millennial uni grads]

  
Loki sat slyly surveying the band of freaks assembled in the bizarre airship on which he was held hostage. His watchful gaze fell beside him to a sinuous woman clad in black, raven hair brushing her collarbone as she swayed with the worsening turbulence from an elbow slung languidly through a harness. He studied her closely for a few moments, until she turned her porcelain pale face to him.

'You're not mortal,' he remarked coolly. He wondered why the archer he now controlled had made no mention of her.

His insight was met with stony silence, her only response an upward quirk of one graceful brow. The other occupants said nothing, even as their attention converged on him.

'What are you?' Loki enquired openly, disarmed with intrigue.

The woman lifted her eyes to his; crystalline ringed in midnight. Then plump, rosy lips parted on a pair of razorsharp eyeteeth. 'Thirsty,' she spoke.

Her reply was met with terse intakes of breath from her colleagues, who tensed at her admission, clearly afraid of this thirst. She dropped her eyes, a slight smirk pulling at the corner of her mouth.

'For what?' Loki asked, needing to know of what the others were so wary.

'The blood of a god,' she purred indulgently, dragging a predatory stare up his chest. Loki felt a thrill of mingled danger and desire unexpectedly shoot through him.

'Alright, back off Sigyn.'

The Captain grasped her arm and tugged her away. Suddenly lightning flashed outside, sending a ripple of trepidation across Loki's face.

'What's the matter, scared of a little lightning?' Rogers challenged him.

'I'm not overly fond of what follows,' the Prince of Mischief grumbled.

✝

She had to see him.

Heated voices carried down the corridor as Sigyn made her way to the containment unit, slowing her steps.

‘- The world's filling up with people who can't be matched, they can't be controlled -’

‘Like you controlled the cube?’

‘- Your work with the Tesseract is what drew Loki to it, and his allies. It is the signal to all the realms that the earth is ready for a higher form of _war.’_

‘You forced our hand. We had to come up with someth-’

‘- Nuclear deterrent? ’Cause that always calms everything _right down_ ...’

‘Remind me again how you made your fortune, Stark?’

‘- I'm sure if he still made weapons, Stark would be _neck deep_ into-’

‘Wait-wait hold on! How is this now about _me?’_

‘I'm sorry, isn't everything?’

Sigyn slinked past the lab, unsurprised to hear that the roomful of gifted human egos rubbing up against each other had sparked into an argument over their war weapons already.

Loki's eyes snapped up as Sigyn approached the glass cage encasing him, his gaze appreciating the fluid grace of the vampire's movements. 'What have you come for, more questions?' he welcomed icily.

Sigyn gently folded her arms and breathed, 'Just … taking your measure.'

As her gaze wandered over his foreign form, her tongue traced her fangtips beneath her painted, bloodless lips. She was fasting for this, so she could gorge as much as her veins could take. The mortals didn’t trust her discipline, and working only when sated alongside agents on SHIELD headquarters was a strict condition in her contract. But every rule had its exceptions. This one was tall, dark, and devilishly handsome.

The captive specimen sat with regal composure in heavy armour of malefic metal and black leather. His hollowed features were set in an elegant scowl, with a gleaming turquoise glare that glinted with the cunning of a coiled snake. Sigyn briefly wondered to herself from whence his well of malevolence flowed. At any rate, he would make a fine meal. Her finest.

The observation drew Loki's ire. She stood poised with feline calm, openly staring at him like a bug in a jar without any regard for his opinion. He rose to his feet, clasping his hands behind him. 'And what breed of creature are you?' he sneered as he drew menacingly close to the glass.

'Vampire,' she provided briskly, content to quell his curiosity.

'And you feed on … blood?'

'Mm.' She dipped her chin in a prim nod.

'Exquisite,' he appraised with eyes roving keenly over her.

Sigyn clenched her jaw and cursed the irony of having come to inspect him, and finding herself evaluated. She let amusement adorn the corners of her mouth. ‘Likewise,’ she returned.

He visibly preened. ‘Is this then the final line of questioning, seduction?’ he teased.

‘Oh,’ sighed Sigyn wistfully, tilting her head in mock sympathy, ‘I’m afraid not darling.’

Loki’s eyes narrowed. 'Then tell me,’ he chastised, ‘why do you concern yourself with the fate of these mortals?'

'I can't have you invading my hunting ground and enslaving my food supply. My kind are a touch possessive. You're stepping on a _lot_ of toes here,' she warned.

The invader cocked his head in consideration, and leant closer. 'Join me and I'll provide you all the sustenance you desire,' he offered smoothly.

He would have need for a Queen once he had conquered the lesser realm, Loki deduced, and truthfully there were none so worthy on Midgard of bearing his heirs as this immortal, this hellion whose name meant _victory._ He felt himself stir at the thought of the glorious abomination their bloodlines might produce. 

Sigyn fought to suppress a shiver up her spine – at the tempting offer of blood, or the tone of his silken silver tongue, she wasn't sure. 'Ask me again if you win,' she countered, flicking a goading glance at the security camera bracketed above them and the spying eyes and ears on the other end. ‘I’m not _entirely_ selfless.’

His charming smile twisted at her evasive rejection with troubling volatility. 'Have you no ambition?' Loki drawled in disgusted tones. 'You would sooner stand with your cattle than assume your mantle above them. Pathetic,' he spat. 'You'll dream of the power I offer when you're kneeling with all the rest.'

Sigyn serenely shook her head. 'You're mistaken. Your power will be mine soon enough,' she assured him, noting the resulting drop in colour from his face.

'What do you mean?' he hissed, disturbed by a feeling of uncertainty for a second time in this mysterious creature's company.

Her lips sealed into a smirk. Then she turned, and left him to ponder his fate.

'Come back!' he snapped, hammering his fist on the glass.

✝

Back in the now less-occupied lab, Banner brandished a syringe. 'Say, mind if I take a sample of your blood?'

Her kin had analysed themselves to pieces already, but Sigyn indulged his curiosity and offered the doctor her forearm. 'It's not _my_ blood,' she sniffed dryly. The scientist had been one of the few to come near her, and his openness was a welcome break from the others' wary glances.

After a vial was filled the needle slid from her vein, the tiny wound closing instantly behind it.

'Thanks.'

Sigyn resumed her inspection of the Scepter, its azure glow illuminating her scowling gaze as she scrutinised its strange construction. Stark and Banner buzzed behind her, exchanging a volley of technobabble as they crossed back and forth between an array of touchscreens while they worked on tracking the Tesseract's gamma signature. Thor had lingered behind after the others stormed out, listening along and verifying the scientists’ burgeoning understanding of the alien technology with the lore of his home realm. Agent Romanoff, Sigyn wasn't exactly sure, but she was glancing at Bruce with targeted frequency.

Their discussion turned again to speculation of Loki's agenda when Stark addressed her abruptly.

'Your vampy voodoo picked up on anything so far?'

Sigyn bristled at his flippant manner, but considered the factors at hand. The spy had baited some information from their enemy already; he intended for the Hulk to destroy their airborne headquarters from the inside. As Captain Rogers had pointed out, Loki could not lead an army from the helicarrier. Among the secrets Sigyn was specially tasked with retrieving – the operation of the Scepter and the location of the Tesseract – she wondered how Loki planned to provoke the Hulk and escape unscathed.

'I'll know the answers soon enough,' she vowed.

'How many vials will you need?' queried Banner.

Sigyn flashed him a fanged smile. 'Oh no,' she clarified with relish, nearly shivering in excitement, 'I'm doing him old-school.'

And she wouldn't take no for an answer.

Tony threw Bruce an openly disturbed look, but the doctor's brow creased with concern. 'Are you certain a bite won't - you know - _infect_ him?'

She shrugged a shoulder. 'He's Asgardian, I'm sure he's impervious to a trifling curse such as mine.'

'Curse?' said Thor, incredulous. 'On this world immortality is a _curse?_ You've found yourself in the wrong realm, sister,' he chuckled. 'You should return to Asgard with me when this is over.'

The golden Prince’s lack of prejudice charmed her. 'I'm not sure your people would approve of my appetite,' Sigyn pointed out.

She was not an Avenger, but a 'specialist consultant' as Coulson had put it; on-call for her talent for reading blood memories in captives less cooperative with interrogation by standard means. After three hundred years Sigyn had cultivated something of a predilection for sampling every haemic cocktail that appeared on her menu. Her work with SHIELD gave her access to some of the most powerful beings on the planet, and now she was privileged to taste the rarest of bloods: that of a Norse demigod.

Along with her prey's memories, for a time she would be imbued with their potency, harvesting whatever abilities or aptitudes they possessed. She would never be more powerful than with blood such as Loki's coursing through her veins. Her coven may frown upon her involvement in human matters but not even the elders knew the power of a god.

Her mouth watered in anticipation. By now the red howl in her marrow was almost deafening, a brutal bassline that reverberated through every parched capillary and throbbed along her jaw to each aching hollow tooth. It really took her back to the sixteen eighties. This was The Lash as she hadn’t endured since she was a fledgling; primeval and intemperate. 

She really shouldn’t have looked at him.

At this rate, it was safest if she bunked down in torpor for the night. Sigyn retreated to retire to her suite when a smoky murmur breezed beside her shoulder. Natasha fell in step with her along the corridor.

'Everything okay Sigyn? You ah, seem a little ... tweaky.'

She was good. And braver than her comrades gave her credit for.

Sigyn muttered back under her breath. 'Why, Agent Romanoff, interested in an upgrade?' she invited.

'Thanks for the offer. I'll reconsider my DNR order.' The spy returned the flirtation and tailed her down a flight of stairs.

'You would be incredible, you know,’ admitted Sigyn. ‘With your skills -'

'I'm already pretty incredible. I can't see a debilitating addiction adding much to that.' Nat eyed Sigyn pointedly as she stopped outside her door.

She swiped her ID over the scanner and the bolts retracted with a hiss-click. 'Certain you want to be alone with me right now?'

‘Better me than easier pickings.’ Her olive gaze steeled on Sigyn with open suspicion. ‘I’ve caught on to Coulson’s misplaced trust before.’

She grimaced a beleaguered smile. 'Rest assured, our prisoner's is the only blood on this ship I want. I've been at this long enough not to spoil my dinner with junk food thankyou, nanny. I'm not the threat Loki has plans for.'

Nat rested a stubborn shoulder against the wall. 'You sure? Sounds like you two really hit it off.'

'Please. I was angling for a payrise. SHIELD salaries are barely keeping up with inflation.'

Sigyn pushed through the door, reaching immediately for the specially-installed thermostat. She keyed the dial below zero on an eight hour timer with tremoring fingers, before sinking onto the bed, one cold fingertip idly slipping between her lips to massage her burning gums.


	2. ‘offspring of your might’

Flanked by armed soldiers, Sigyn crossed the threshold of Loki's prison. His hands were restrained behind him. His expression was smug, touched with mild curiosity as to what futile tortures they were to attempt on him. Dizzy with thirst now that her prey was within reach, Sigyn could make no secret of her need. Breath coming in rapid pants, heartbeat in her teeth, she glanced at Director Fury with a gaze ravenous with desire.

'Do your thing,' he shrugged with an edge of distaste.

Pursing her lips with irritation, Sigyn rolled her shoulders, shrugging off her tailored velvet overcoat, and pulled it down her arms behind her. She flung the garment at Fury, who caught it with an air of awkward offence. Then she lifted her chin and met Loki's stare.

'Kneel.'

'Beg your pardon?' scoffed the god, bemused. 'I'm asked to _kneel_ before a blood-sucking beas–'

A swift kick to the back of a knee from an obliging soldier dropped him before her. 'What are you doing?' he demanded, arching back from her as she crouched.

'Don't struggle, it'll only hurt,' she coaxed breathlessly, her tone tender with bloodlust, as she slid close to him.

 _'What is this?'_ he seethed now, rounding on Fury. The soldiers raised their weapons as he grew enraged.

Fury stated the terms. 'If you don't comply consciously you’ll comply _un_ consciously.'

Before he resisted further Sigyn darted forward and seized her prey, curling her fingers into Loki's hair and wrenching his head aside to expose his carotid artery. He growled in outrage at the sting of her teeth in his flesh.

She answered with mewl of ecstasy as his essence coated her tingling tongue. Not the meaty heat of mortal drink but decadently sweet, like what she remembered of the taste of honey - the difference between a merlot punch to the mouth and a tawny port treat. A sanguine symphony of flavours played through a palate of dark treacle and velvety toffee, melting to a syrupy finish. The taste was incredible, quenching like only feeding for the first time bad been.

Sigyn bit down deeper and gulped the god’s nectar. Soon her veins were searing with ice cold might, boundless energy suffusing her form and leaking from her pores in a glimmering veridian glow, until her body felt afloat as her strength soared beyond the constraints of the planet’s gravity.

Loki caught a glimpse of her face as she was pulled off him. Her lips glistened with vermilion, her eyes ablaze with power and a look of pure animal satisfaction. She was monstrous. She was beautiful.

She was his enemy. And as he sensed his own _seiðr_ radiate from the goddess his blood had created, he was gripped by dread. But it was worse than he imagined.

'The memories,' Fury demanded of the vampire. 'What's he planning? _Where is the cube?'_

Bewildered, Loki gaped at Sigyn as her expression shifted.

The trick was not to let yourself float back up to the surface - to dive for the pearls deeper down. Her eyes unfocused as she submerged into Loki's memories. A cacophony of sights and sounds cascaded through her senses, rising to a crescendo of the most potent emotions. He watched her slump under the weight of another mind, dark hair spilling through pale fingers as her trembling hands rose to clutch her temples as though they might burst.

The centuries had rendered Sigyn a beast hollowed out by hunger. Her own sorrows were long scarred over to saudade, and the gains no consolation for the losses. She cried only the fresh tears of her prey anymore, laughed only in their stolen joy. But a millennium was too much to sift through. Experienced as she was, Sigyn strained to locate Loki's plans, finding herself swept away by the stormy tides of his horror, loneliness, and fury. Her breath shuddered as pained voices echoed in her ears, feeling every word like a knife to her chest.

_Am I cursed?_

_Small for a giant's offspring ... abandoned, suffering, left to die …_

_No more than another stolen relic … I'm the monster parents tell their children about at night?_

_I only ever wanted to be your equal!_

_Is it madness? Is it?_

Sigyn was vividly reminded of the family she had lost to her curse. Unageing, she had been driven away by their suspicion. From a distance she could only watch her nieces and nephews bloom and wither like her siblings before them, followed by their own children. It was a cruel blessing to be cursed with eternal life in a mortal world. Her eyes winced closed as her clinical composure slipped. She had spied the unwanted runt cowering inside the villain's armour, whose mischief was forged into malice in a crucible of betrayal. She saw that he was driven to murder the father who had abandoned him, and forsake the father who had stolen him. He was the son of none.

She gasped to find her heart stricken by his longing, and a tear coursed down her cheek. His plans did not concern her any more.

Observing the ill effects of Sigyn's possession by his demons, an unwelcome pang of shame resonated in Loki's chest. Frowning, he ground his teeth against the lump rising in his throat. He was no longer a discarded pawn but a conquering King and all must see it. Her tears were a violation and a mockery.

'Where's – the – cube?!' Fury shouted in exasperation against the vampire’s ear.

‘Patience!’ Sigyn snapped at the Director. ‘He’s old, there’s a lot …’

She redirected her enquiry into Loki's blood a second time - and her ears filled with screams. Throat-shredding shrieks raked goosebumps down the back of her neck, and a stench of sour sweat and burnt meat stung her nostrils. Her stomach squirmed with sick terror at a hazy glance of bloody flesh blistering under lashes of a whitehot whip.

 _If you fail, if the Tesseract is kept from us, there will be no realm, no barren moon, no crevice, where he cannot find you. You think you know pain? He will make you long for something sweet as pain._  
  
His mind was flayed, fraying knots ripped apart and rewoven by a needle bejewelled with an entity greater and older than she knew existed; a weapon passed from the Titan’s hand to Loki’s. Always listening, stoking, steering his hand even as he wielded it. The Scepter.

There was something kindred between the two artifacts. Sigyn followed the thread of association linking them, searching for the next pearl on the chain, and glimpsed the Prince’s fists gripping the handles of a shimmering sapphiric box - different to pictures of the Tesseract in her briefing, like a casket - and a golden-armoured man freezing solid under a polar vortex unleashed from an ancient, arctic power.

An old word echoed on her tongue - something the overheating earth needed more than another weapon. _Fimbulvetr._

‘- How about _now?’_

Sigyn was drawn to Loki’s rudimentary plans for her once he'd charmed or cheated her allegiance – he would have her any way – advising his operations on Midgard in gilded luxury, a lap cat drunk on his blood. Her revitalised cheeks warmed at his wish to taste victory on her lips.

'I-I …'

Her response faltered in her throat as she stared nakedly at the dark Prince. She saw how far he'd come to conquer, knew the power he commanded - feared the master he served just as he did. He could not be stopped.

Only saved.

'Get her out of here,' the Director called with a disgruntled wave of his hand, and a glove gripped her roughly.

Still flooded with emotion, Sigyn jerked away from the soldier's grasp. _'I'm not your puppet!'_ she snarled, her fists curling as an echo of Loki's rage ignited in her.

The soldiers redirected their weapons to the vampire. The mortal closest to Loki fired a series of tranquilliser darts into her. Unaffected, she plucked them out of her chest and lunged at the soldiers.

Chaos erupted.

'Contain her!' Fury commanded, backing away.

Loki began wriggling furiously against his bonds.

Sigyn engaged the other soldiers, whirling between them in a flurry of vicious strikes from her fists, elbows and knees, snapping necks and tearing throats. They were disposed of easily, but not before riddling her with bullets.

As the last man slumped to the floor Loki glanced around to find that Fury had swiftly slipped out of the cell, securing the two of them inside. Immobilised by pain, Sigyn sank before him, choking out hoarse gasps that rattled in her punctured chest. Finally pulling his wrists free, Loki regarded her calculatingly, unsure of her motives. Just yesterday she had taunted and threatened him, then today wept and fought for him.

He found himself edging toward her.

'What are you doing?' she rasped as he reached out and began unhooking the lower fastenings of her torn corset to inspect the damage beneath.

'Healing you,' he murmured briskly, and raised a hand over her perforated stomach.

'No need,' she croaked in protest. At his quizzical look, a masochistic smile touched her bloodstained lips. 'It's been - at least - f-fifty years since - I've had a good death …' Her voice faded to a whisper. 'This is nothing.'

Loki wondered what good a brush with mortality could do for a god – only weaken them surely. 'What would you have me do?' he requested as her breathing slowed.

'Hold my hand …'

Her eyes fluttered closed and her destroyed body went limp. Her request was an act of sentiment, such a thing Loki now scorned. He glanced down her arm.

She was unconscious, he bargained, and tentatively he touched a fingertip to her slender lifeless hand. So deadly moments ago, he found it now so delicate. After merely a minute, he heard air wheeze in her chest and before he could hastily retract his hand, her fingers grasped it tightly as her eyes drifted open once again.

Sigyn shuddered and groaned low through gritted teeth as bullets slowly reversed their path through shredded flesh, to re-emerge from their entry wounds, rolling onto the floor with a clink. Her muscles, knotted with pain, relaxed as her ruptured tissue knitted, sealed and faded, leaving the plane of her stomach pristine.

Loki stared, transfixed by the harrowing sight of her transformation from battered corpse to bloodstained beauty. Then his eyes slitted with suspicion. 'Why did you do this?' he asked, searching her face intently.

 _I know you,_ came the thought, unbidden, to her mind. _I love you._

A cackle coughed from Sigyn’s blood-coated throat in marvel at the tears he had dredged out of her. All her decades of thirst and ruin had worn out her once tender heart, leaving a husk interested only in prey she lusted to suck or fuck. But Loki’s thousand years of wonder and woe had drained the murky depths of her ennui - pathetic, really - and resurrected some long-lost ghost of a soul still lurking in her bones. Undead had never felt so alive.

No other blood would do again.

'There's nowhere I won't hunt you to taste you again,’ she vowed aloud, watching him with wild craving from the floor. ‘You're _mine_.’

A skilled liesmith, Loki usually knew deceit when it appeared. He pulled his hand from hers with a slight flick, as though it were sullied. 'Sly words from a stranger,' he sniffed, guarding himself with cynicism. 'Who are you to invade the mind of a King with such foul sorcery?'

Sigyn pulled herself up to him, inclining her head and drawing in close until her breath brushed his gnawed throat. He stiffened, conflicted.

'His Queen,' she proposed, and her tongue swept the wound she’d made on him, savouring the last sugary trace of blood that had leaked from it.

Loki’s eyes rolled closed as thundering footfalls carried down the corridor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I’ve been spinning my wheels in the stall thinking that posting 1 WIP at a time on an update schedule after most of it is written is a lesson I have to learn, but then I realised we could die in a riot or catch 21st century consumption any day if the recession doesn’t get us first and the water wars probably aren’t that far away, so I might as well throw my love letters to a trickster god out the window to you when I can because what if chaos is _his_ lesson for me and you don’t mind waiting on chapters for 6 months to a year do you really? Is satisfaction in any of our natures?


	3. ‘like you never had wings’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Baby me writing the original 7 years ago, blushing and sweating: I hope their first kiss is romantic enough  
> Me now, cackling and crowbarring smut into the central plot: I hope the double dubcon mindfuck is nasty enough  
>   
> 

A sea of cyan eyes stared through her.

SHIELD slaves scurried about the derelict catacombs in a flurry of activity, carrying crates and cases and cables around a metal structure glowing in a nest of jerry-rigged tech. _Ants,_ she thought.

A steel grip snared Sigyn’s elbow.

Loki wasted no time in tugging his companion down a dilapidated passageway. Sigyn was steered through a door that opened onto a decrepit room lit by a brass candelabra, otherwise bare save for a kingly bed dressed in forest green sheets and draped in furs. She licked her lips.

Her bloodthirst now slaked, other appetites were reawakening more rapidly even than usual - fuelled on the fumes of what she knew were Loki’s long-neglected needs. By the time she set eyes on the bed, her heart pounded at the prospect of the thrilling match her new mate would make in the wrestle to be the last to lose control.

Until the moment the door thudded shut, when the Asgardian swung Sigyn by the arm and hauled her against a wall that crumbled dust down over them, backing her up with a hand collared at her throat.

The tip of the Scepter pierced the vampire’s larcenous heart and flashed with Loki’s will - instantly draining the tension from her tendons and the shock from her features as her eyes glazed over with cobalt cataracts, limbs going limp and leaving her hanging marionette-like in his grip.

 _'What do you want?_ _'_ Loki growled out, stare boring suspiciously down into hers from where he towered over her.

In that instant the entirety of Sigyn’s world constricted into one captivating thing: the word of the sorcerer holding the Scepter. Everything was about him and for him to the exclusion of all else. The simplicity of this existence muted the maelstrom of their memories in her mind to a blank peace she found herself having no wish to fight.

Her concerns about the Scepter were insignificant. This was freedom.

'You,' she gave, gazing up at him in the kind of thrall she’d only ever hypnotised from her mortal victims. A fog had fallen over every one of Sigyn’s senses, blinding and deafening her to any notion of resistance to his command - her allegiance stripped bare of any agenda of her own that might deviate from Loki’s.

'What _about_ me?’ he pressed shrewdly, still glaring with distrust.

Truths tumbled from her entranced lips. 'Your blood.'

_'And?'_

'Your power.'

'What else?'

Sigyn’s eyes smoldered through their glacial veil. 'Your heart -' 

Loki scoffed a derisive sneer, only for his jaw to slacken at a creak of leather on leather when she shifted beneath him, and he glanced down at the restless movement of her thighs rubbing together. 

Only her raw desire for him was left intact. She was melting in his grasp, suspense searing down her spine uninhibited. His potent blood had poured into her every cell, plumping her lips, swelling her folds and soaking the lace between her legs.

'Your cock,' admitted the reverent revenant.

Had he stolen her breath or her his?

Loki’s eyes crept back up to Sigyn’s, dilating with feral lust.

So long. It had been so long since he’d known the slick grip of a woman. Since he could remember pleasure - a phantom sense he could scarcely recall the sight nor sound nor taste of. He was certain this peculiar creature’s anatomy could accommodate him suitably. Now he would find out.

The Scepter hummed ominously between them then, as if in warning - staying his hand at his impulse to unleash the vampire from its possession.

Because … her faithfulness was still unproven. She might be honest in her affections, but she was certainly mistaken in them. And he couldn't afford her change of heart when her loyalty was tested. _Just like everyone who claimed to love him only to cast him off,_ a higher wisdom whispered. No ally could be trusted. No trust could be risked.

The vampire’s thieving pulse thrummed under his thumb; her pale cheeks flush with his stolen blood. He recalled her condescending comments, her cavalier violation of his mind - and whitehot ferocity flared through his muscles. She deserved to pay for her arrogance.

Loki slowly lowered the Scepter, trailing the tip in a single cold line between his captive’s cleavage and down her sternum, hooking on her waistband like a silver talon that sent a frisson of excitement straight to her core. His eyes were eerily luminous now, gleaming in the candlelight like starlit ice. His voice was frosted gravel.

'Show me.'

The staff was thrown down and the hand at her throat shoved Sigyn to her knees.

_‘Your turn.’_

She landed hard between his boots, choking on a gasp as long fingers twisted into a fistful of her hair, bringing her face to face with the bulge stretching his breeches.

'Prove just how much that greedy little mouth can take,' Loki goaded, sinuous fingers nimbly unlacing his fastenings. The leather unfolded, loosing his thickening length.

_This wasn't what she bargained for._

The thought sank into silence as swiftly as it surfaced and Sigyn found her traitorous hands sliding obediently up his maille-scaled thighs to clasp his manhood. As too did a distant realisation that this wasn't the Prince from the memories she drank - her question drowned under a molten wave of lust evoked by his slack-jawed sigh at her touch that servitude had never before conjured in her.

Sigyn took what she wanted when she wanted it. Always the predator, never the prey. Her sire’s bite was the first and last time she had ever been held down by a man. By now she would've climbed her quarry and ripped off his clothes, flipped him on his back and ridden him to her own release. But now the only pleasure she sought was her King’s worship.

His sac was swollen taut, painfully plump under the pad of her thumb. It must have been pitifully long since he’d had relief. When his prick had surged to a succulent spear in her stroking fingers, a slow tug at her scalp lifted her lips to his cockhead.

_This wasn't what she -_

Without hesitation Sigyn clasped his hipbone and ducked to lick along the shaft, delicately at first and gradually flattening her tongue to broader sweeps as she went until his breath shivered from him in shallow pants from above. She took her time tracing over every ridge and vein she found, venerating each imperial inch.

Loki did not tolerate her teasing pace for long before he shook her by the hair and gruffly commanded, _‘Suck.’_

_This wasn't -_

When she obeyed, savouringly suckling the head into her mouth, gliding lips over his frenum, Loki released a gasp and braced himself on a hand pushed into the wall. The fist in her hair pulled impatiently, sliding his cock further down her tongue, stuffing himself deeper until her jaw was stretched full and she coughed out an awed whimper through her nose.

Sigyn tightened her hold and stirred him with swirls of her tongue. Foreign curses hissed between his gritted teeth that cracked into strained moans as she sucked over his length, so pained with pleasure that her quim ached with empty envy and she clenched her thighs together, trying to relieve an edge off the throbbing tension.

Carefully though she worked, at another insistent yank on her hair from Loki she slipped, and an errant fang scraped his tender skin.

Sigyn winced still at her mistake, only for him to give an intrigued growl and purr low in his throat down at her.

‘Let me feel those teeth, kitten.’

_This was what she was for._

She complied, treating him to little nicks and scratches while she worked him until the taste of salty dew leaked onto the back of her tongue.

The moment she felt him throb in her throat, Loki abruptly wrenched her off his cock.

Sigyn was hoisted to her feet and knocked back against the wall as he rent open her corset in one rip. Her breasts fell heavily into his groping hands and he measured their weight, rolling one nipple to a peak between the pluck of a thumb and forefinger - before they roved down her waist and into the back of her pants, clawing the leather down her hips and knees until she was stripped bare, thong torn off, her boots vanishing in a blink of lime light.

The temperature in the room might have been numbing for all she knew, but she barely felt the air for the torrent of heat in her veins and the arousal radiating off her skin.

Loki spun her around under an appraising stare, emitting an approving hum as he pet her ass, kneading a supple globe of flesh while he kept hold of her shoulder. When a pair of long fingers delved between her cheeks and probed the pool of slick awaiting him, a gasp burst from Sigyn’s lips at the contact and he breathed a dark chuckle.

‘You want to be my Queen?’ Loki taunted and dragged her across the room, where she was flung onto the mattress. ‘This is all the use I have for a Queen -’

Sigyn rolled back onto the furs as he followed her down, prowling up her pliant body and kneeing her thighs apart.

‘A bitch to breed my heirs.’

His fine, cruel mouth callously bypassed hers to descend on her neck, biting vengefully into her flesh until she squealed - releasing just before the skin broke. Tongue replaced teeth, soothing over the grazed flesh as he tasted his new toy, and the shot of pleasure chasing the pain was so sweet Sigyn writhed under the delicious weight of his iron hard frame, grinding hungrily after the pressure of his hips between her thighs.

She dutifully reached into his coat in search of fastenings, but he smacked her hands away and wrapped one of his own around her wrists, pinning them over her head.

'Did you think us equals?’ he continued to mock, his lecherous gaze not straying from her body as he bent his head to lap over the swell of her breast; she could do nothing but sigh and squirm in assent. ‘You're of no more value to me than a _pet,_ Midgardian, trained to perform any trick of my choosing. No matter your _pedigree.'_

Leather croaked, the scaly texture buffing her bare skin, punctuated by the chill kiss of metal accents, the long overcoat cloaking Sigyn in the heady musk of his scent. The Prince slinked over her with sinuous, serpentine power as he greedily pawed and pinched and licked and sucked over every inch of her fresh flesh like she was a thing to be devoured; hands cool and grasping as they studied the shape of her, painting a bright flush onto her skin.

She arched when lithe fingers plunged between her aching lips, mewling at the relief of finally being filled with something. He stoked her heat with deft strokes, testing her responsiveness, readying her cunt for him until she was gasping and grasping for something bigger but he denied her, thumb relentlessly playing her pearl until she shook and sobbed out her shuddering release. She could move only to cant her hips for more, riding his fingers until they came away webbed with glistening strings of her wetness that he brought down and smeared over his cockhead.

Before her last spasms even began to fade, Sigyn was flipped prone and mounted, a heavy hand arching the small of her back and another spreading her cheeks apart.

When the blunt tip of his prick dragged through her quivering slit, her face sank into the furs, smothering a moan, having needed nothing more than this in her three hundred years of life, before she knew she needed it. He gripped her hip tighter and nudged into her slick little sleeve with questing pumps, sharp breaths rasping out into a long sigh of relief at the tight, smooth slide into her yielding sheath.

Loki caught his breath long enough to lean over and nuzzle into her neck. 'I’ve so much seed saved up for you, my thirsty creature,’ he slurred slyly, nipping at her earlobe, biting over her shoulder. ‘I’m going to butter that cunt so thickly you won’t remember a man before me.'

Sigyn heard herself beg in a simpering whisper. ‘Make me yours -’

At that Loki grabbed her hips and dragged her back onto her knees. The fetter on her will had rendered her mindlessly mesmerised by his majesty while she was pushed and pulled this way and that, Loki positioning her as he pleased like a rag doll. He found the right angle of fit and was soon stroking himself off in her lush clutch, ramming her harder back onto him with every grunting thrust. He took his pleasure like a man possessed, pistoning arms pumping his consort’s sleeve over his length by fistfuls of her ass in time with his ragged ruts.

Her body betrayed her in every heartbeat, damned her with every heatwave, tightening that coil at her core with every minute he used her. This was for every time she’d pushed, wanting to be shoved. Every time she scratched just to be bit back. Every man she’d savaged until the day she was ravaged.

Ecstasy crested, broke, and crashed over Sigyn in rippling waves and she was keening into the sheets when Loki swore under his breath with an agonised fury she didn't understand and jerked his cock from her still seizing quim.

Sigyn sooked at the sudden loss, her needy whine wilting to a whimper when he dealt a string of open-handed strikes across her ass that shook her cheeks.

He pushed her back down with a growl and stabbed his shaft back into her silken depths with a squelch of flesh, driving a wanton cry from her throat. That thwarted need began to build yet again and Loki worked them both to the edge once more, his snarls becoming more savage until the hell of holding back burned worse than the heaven he feared.

Sigyn was wrecked with a third rapture, her vision blurring with blinding bliss - and this time, her wail was answered by a guttural howl as at last Loki relented. He sank deep, a hot burst of cream coating her insides. Skin slapped as his bruising grip on her hip slammed her over him, until her thirsty sleeve had slurped every spurt of seed he had to spare.

Sigyn slumped, her sweat soaked skin slipping from his grasp into a boneless stretch of limbs. Their flesh came apart with a wet suck, releasing a warm rush down her thighs. Loki buckled over her, his hands landing alongside hers to brace against the furs.

She could feel him quaking through the blankets now, head hung low, still panting; hoarse heaves of breath gusting across her back and wafting wild strands of his hair that spilled onto her shoulder.

When his breath started to shake, Sigyn frowned. Had she not pleased her master?

When his breath dampened with sniffles, borrowed memory bled into her heart.

Pain so prolonged it had estranged him to pleasure. Made it just as unbearable.

She gently curled her pinky finger over his thumb.

Almost immediately, as though it scalded him, Loki wrested his hand from her touch.

The dip of his weight in the mattress sprang back up and within moments he had adjusted his armour and strode out the door in a whirl of leather, leaving her dazed and dripping with cream that didn't stop coming.

✝

Hours later Sigyn would startle to the sputtered puff of candles extinguishing, plunging her in darkness. She rolled from the wall to face the door and a shimmer of green dazzled her eyes for a moment, scoring stars on her sight.

Then a long expanse of pressure crawled in behind her. The figure reclined heavily against the pillows, sinking into a leaden repose with the deadweight drop of a man succumbing to crushing fatigue.

Minutes ticked by before he moved, rolling to his side. An arm - bare, sinewy - hooked under her waist and curled, vicelike, bringing her back against a chest ridged with muscle rather than metal. Lean, nude legs locked through hers. His skin was smooth and cool as marble, molding to hers with a kind of binding conductivity that stoked and soothed in equal measure. A deep exhalation ghosted through her hair.

Sigyn blinked into the black. He didn't think she was awake. Didn't know she didn't sleep.

Didn't know she wasn't fertile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trust me, writing ‘thong’ felt as weird to this aussie as reading ‘g-banger’ woulda been for you.  
> 
> 
> \-----------------------------
> 
> Confession time: As I said I was uncertain if it's worthwhile rewriting this story for Ao3. It's looking like I lost everyone with this chapter, and my excitement has deflated to embarrassment ... I don't believe in deleting or in an unfinished story, but I'm going to re-prioritise my other wips over this one, unless reader interest revives. Just so updating doesn't feel like a kick in the guts for me instead of fun.  
> 💔 VV


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